


you make it easy to fall in love (with you)

by surrenderdammit



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Developing Relationship, Emotionally Hurt James T. Kirk, Empathy, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Pre-Slash, Prompt Fill, Tarsus IV, Telepathic Bond, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 05:04:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14348535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surrenderdammit/pseuds/surrenderdammit
Summary: The Federation consists of a number of members whose species have telepathic or empathic abilities, and there have always been instances where this has led to tension or misjudgements. However, there are no recorded incidents which Spock can recall that would have prepared them for this.It is a false comfort, when his Captain is returned to them in a catatonic, almost lifeless, state.It is too much like Khan, too soon after Krall, to be acceptable.(Warnings in the notes)





	you make it easy to fall in love (with you)

**Author's Note:**

> English isn't my first language, this is unbetaed, please excuse any typos/grammatical errors! :)
> 
>  
> 
> Oh my, oh man, oh me. So, uh, this was supposed to be a short fill for a Tumblr prompt (http://hereinlimbo.tumblr.com/post/172854716628/hey-so-idk-if-youre-still-doing-this-prompt).
> 
> Thank you manitrix-to-an-end for prompting me Spirk, with hurt Kirk and BAMF Spock being protective over Kirk. I tried!!! But it didn't turn out as I wanted it to, I honestly don't know wtf I just wrote. It took on a life of its own. But, uuuhh, enjoy??? Hopefully?? lol
> 
>  
> 
> WARNINGS: Kirk is subjected to a telepathic "attack" of sorts, that is non-consensual and has potentially bad effects. He is forced to relive trauma (Tarsus IV, so that includes starvation and child abuse and genocide). There is nothing explicit described, though. 
> 
> Spock creates a temporary telepathic link to Kirk, but it's consensual and welcomed.
> 
> If I missed anything, please let me know. Thank you! :D
> 
> (PS! Spock and Uhura have parted ways romantically, but are still friends. I don't go into details on that but ST Beyond is a thing that happened)

oOo

 

There had been no indication that the welcoming party of the Maiqurians would harbour any hostile intentions towards the  _ Enterprise’s  _ landing party.

In fact, they are a recent applicant to the Federation and they are currently undergoing negotiations for their membership. A comparatively peaceful race of telepathic empaths, the geological composition of their planet and their different technological and medical advancements are all in the Federation’s interests. Similarly, the vast connection of allies and, again, the different technological and medical advancements of the Federation stands to benefit the Maiqurians immensely.

These are all factors which should, logically, make for a peaceful and mutually beneficial negotiation, especially when taking into account the similar set of values which both the Maiqurians and the Federation share. Furthermore, previous interactions with the officials on Maiquri has proven a success, though the  _ Enterprise  _ is the first to make contact outside of transmissions of visual and audio communications.

That is, perhaps, where the first mistake is made. No one, not even himself much to Spock's dismay, thought to prepare for the difference between communicating verbally with a telepathic and empathic species through means which did not allow for the Maiqurians to use their gifts, compared to attempting to communicate with them in a much closer, physical and mental, capacity.

The Federation consists of a number of members whose species have telepathic or empathic abilities, and there have always been instances where this has led to tension or misjudgements. However, there are no recorded incidents which Spock can recall that would have prepared them for this.

It is a false comfort, when his Captain is returned to them in a catatonic, almost lifeless, state.

It is too much like Khan, too soon after Krall, to be acceptable. 

 

oOo

 

_ No,  _ Spock thinks,  _ not again. _

Jim lies still, barely breathing, upon the couch in the shared area of their connecting  _ cells.  _ They came here under the pretense that they were quarters set up for their diplomatic visit. Indeed, the rooms are luxurious and an obvious attempt to show off the generous hospitality of their hosts. But they cannot contact their ship, and they are locked inside with no evident escape.

“We apologise,” the Head Priestess of the Maiquri people tells him, several guards levelling him with their versions of phasers. “As a consequence of our ritual, your Captain has surrendered to the Sleep. We see in your minds what you want to do, and we cannot risk you and your crew's interference in our joining of the Federation. You must stay, until he Awakes, or Succumbs.”

Nyota is rigid beside him, jaw clenched and eyes fierce. The Head Priestess does not flinch, but her back is straight as she bids them a good evening, leaving without a further word of explanation.

The oppressive force of so many powerful Maiqurians lifts and the non-telepaths of the crew are now able to speak without telepathic interference. It was a strategic attack, to keep them from verbally protesting and questioning their unexpected captors. Were the Maiqurians not as adept at shielding as they are, however, Spock suspects the combined mental cry for vengeance amongst his fellow officers would have brought them to their knees.

“This is insane, what the hell did those freaks do to Jim? What kind of goddamn voodoo, mumbo-jumbo bullshit is this?” McCoy rages from where he is crouched next to the couch where Jim lies, pale and still. “What kind of  _ welcoming ritual between leaders  _ leads to  _ this?” _

Spock finds himself in a too familiar state of almost blind fury. He knows now it is impossible to suppress, and thus, he attempts to harness it for better use. For now, his focus turn to his Captain with a sharp intensity that cuts off any input deemed superfluous. Therefore he is unmoved by McCoy’s loud demands as Spock moves towards Jim, kneeling down and reaching out of his meld points.

“Goddamnit Spock, what the hell do you think you’re doing?!” McCoy's words only registers because they are accompanied with his hand on Spock's wrist, attempting to stop him from assessing Jim’s mental state.

An unwanted rush of emotions accompanies the sudden touch.  _ Worry, fear, desperation, fury, resignation.  _ It is only because Spock recognizes it as  _ friend  _ that the Doctor does not receive a broken arm for his interference. 

Cooly, with an amount of banked fury Spock would have felt shamed for only eighteen months ago, he turns to regard McCoy. “Remove your hand, Doctor. I must check the Captain’s status, as he shows signs of telepathic assault.”

McCoy splutters, blood vessels opening and filling, causing a violently red shade to appear on the skin of his cheeks, throat and ears. Jim refers to it as McCoy 'popping a vein’, and indeed, there is one pulsing by his temple.

“We have no idea what they did! What if it’ll mess you up too, hm? What’re we supposed to do then, with both our Captain  _ and  _ First Officer out of commission? Besides, you're the only one of us with any telepathy, and any idea how to handle these crazy sonsofbitches!”

Spock tugs himself free with little effort and leans closer to Jim’s prone body, beyond determined. This is the only way. “While I trust your medical expertise, Doctor, as you have stated, telepathy remains mine. I will perform a meld, and asses the Captain's well-being. I will attempt to find out what took place, as we can only benefit from more information. Do not attempt to interfere; a broken meld can be dangerous, and I might react inadvertently and violently to any perceived threats.”

Nyota, who has remained silent through their exchange, speaks up. Her voice is clear, and strong, and familiar. It cuts through Spock's rage like few things can.

“It has to be done, Leonard. Spock knows what he's doing; he's an exceptionally powerful telepath who has experience with other telepathic and empathic species. It's an advantage not shared by the Maiqurians,” she says, face grim but determined. Spock takes the Doctor’s momentary distraction to fit his fingers firmly to Jim's face, forgoing the ritual words to maximize efficiency.

He dismisses the sounds of loud, angry voices as he slips into Jim's mind, putting his entire focus on the well-being of his Captain.

 

oOo

 

Jim’s mind is the warmth of the Vulcan desert, the complexity of a star, the pull and depth of the Terra oceans. The degree of compatibility had first engendered fear and apprehension, for it had been unprecedented and unknown, but with time it became clear it is a gift he has thought out of reach since childhood.  _ T’hy'la,  _ his elder counterpart had claimed. Spock wishes he could have told him of his agreement before he had passed, yet regret is illogical, and he does not doubt the Ambassador knew all the same.

The bright, welcoming mental scape of his Captain, his friend, his brother, his---not yet. He does not expect it to shine as it usually does, not with the state the Maiqurians left him in. Yet what he finds is nothing he could have foreseen.

 

oOo

 

The mental scape that manifests is the surface of an unknown planet. It is barren, with wilting flora and a grey, despondent sky. The air is humid and uncomfortable, a sweet pungent smell in the air that speaks of death and decay. Large plains of land are scorched, littered with ruins of what appears to have been housing structures, most likely farm houses. It is eerily quiet; no sounds of birds or insects or other fauna. There are no signs of life, yet Spock continues on, walking in his mentally manifested form and covering much more ground than would be realistically possible outside a meld.

There is no sign of the bright, warm presence that is James Kirk.

Spock keeps pressing on.

 

oOo

 

_ You shouldn't be here. _

The voice is unexpected; Spock's first sign that he is, indeed, in Jim’s mind. He recognises the reprimand, the worry, though the words are spoken quietly, a weak projection in the silence of this strange world.

“Jim!” Spock calls, illogically reaching out, trying to grasp air, desperate for contact. “Captain! Where are you?”

He gets nothing in reply, just another hill to climb, another cliff; bare stones and treacherous paths to navigate. There is a steady rise of smoke beyond the hill, dark and constant. The closer he gets, the more apprehension he feels.

 

oOo

 

“Don't make a sound,” a high, steely voice warns from behind. Spock stops, one hand on the rock he was about to climb, and looks behind him.

A young Human - a child - stands behind him, dirty and severely malnourished, a sharp rock in his hand that is rusty with the stains of dried, iron-based blood. Careful not to startle, Spock turns around and lifts his hands up to show he is unarmed.

“Good, now stay there. JT will know what to do with you,” the child declares, voice barely wavering to show his apprehension. Spock is unsure what this is; a manifestation of Jim’s psyche? No, the child does not feel familiar. Spock tries to suppress his unease at what he is experiencing. If this is a memory, he dreads what he will find.

It takes a moment, between one blink and the next, when suddenly another child is emerging from the jagged rock formations, slipping through cracks and hidden spaces.

“He’s alright, Thomas,” James Kirk declares. Spock stares.

His Captain is young, here. Young but unmistakably  _ Jim.  _ His hair is blonder, but dirty and too long. His clothes hang off of him in rags, his frame short and fragile. Blue, hard eyes stare out of a sunken face, and Spock is stricken by the reality of what he sees.

This is his Jim, starved and left to hide in the hills, and Spock has no idea when or where this is. It is a profound failure, and the desire to guide Jim out, to bring him  _ back,  _ burns with an intensity that makes the very fabric of this memory-reality ripple.

“Spock, c’mon, I’ll explain,” the image of his Captain says, voice breaking and young. “I can't leave yet, I can't come with you.”

They're suddenly seated around a small fire, deep in a cave, surrounded by beds of dried leaves and grass. Scattered about, are ten other children, all Human, between the ages of three to the early teens.

Jim is next to him, gripping his arm, as he looks up at Spock with tired, sad eyes.

“Jim,” Spock implores him, unwilling to accept his words. “We need to leave. I will guide you out of this place. The Maiqurians have done you harm, but I will remedy it. You are needed.”

But Jim, ever contradictory and defiant and infuriating, shakes his head. “They've sent me on a journey. I need to get through this, Spock, and you can't stop it. Not without harming me, inadvertently. They have me reliving some very terrible things, things they deemed I hadn't dealt with. I'm not going to lie Spock, this sucks. When I get out of this hell, we’re going to have some  _ major  _ fucking talks about personal boundaries and inflicting empathic and telepathic decisions on others without their explicit consent. They  _ assumed  _ simply because they  _ felt  _ my openness to accept their customs, but they didn't bother  _ explaining  _ them before I was well lost in this  _ Sleep  _ of theirs.”

Spock's anger never went away, therefore it would be false to claim it returns now. But it flares bright, like a stoked flame, and Jim flinches beside him. Reaching out, Spock places his hand against one fragile, sunken cheek. Jim is so small, here. A combination of malnourishment at a critical stage of his development, and Spock's memory of his present Jim; broad shouldered, strong and vibrant.

“I'm fourteen, and we're on Tarsus IV,” Jim explains. They are in Jim's mind, and Spock has not bothered to shield, too intent on finding Jim and bringing him back to risk shutting him out by hiding parts of his own mind. His thoughts have been heard, and curiously, Spock feels relieved rather than violated or shamed.

“I grieve with thee,” Spock tells him, unable to find words to express his horror and despair. To relive this, he cannot imagine. He does not think he could survive the loss of his mother, his planet, once more. Not even through memory. It seems beyond cruel, a depraved and sadistic thing to inflict upon another, and Spock rages against the iniquity. 

“I will get through this, Spock,” Jim insists, his determination and conviction achingly familiar. Spock is helpless against it, his faith in his Captain beyond logic, yet it has been proven to be true time and again. “Get out of here, take care of my crew. I’ll be right behind you, okay?”

Spock looks around, takes in the sight of children hiding in fear, starving and sick, with Jim in the middle of it. They look to him like a leader, and Spock has no doubt Jim is the one who led them here, to this small shelter, to offer them a chance to fight for their survival.

“Katie will die, a few days from now. Only nine of us survives,” Jim whispers, following his thoughts. “Starfleet will be too late. I know all this. I tried to change things. Tried to do things differently. I failed. It's only in my mind, only a memory, yet I let four thousand people die, Spock. I think I’ve found that no-win scenario “

The despair is heavy, and unwelcome. Spock’s fingers twitch against the fragile skin of Jim's cheek.

“No, Jim,” Spock tells him, determined. “You  _ will  _ win. You will return to me, you will conquer this as you always do; against all odds. These children survived because of you. That shall always be a win, Captain. The rest are not yours to be blamed for; do not shoulder the burden no one but Kodos stands responsible for. He does not deserve the mercy of others taking his blame, least of all  _ you.” _

Jim smiles. It is weak, but grateful, and Spock treasures it.

“Thank you,” he says, though he does not need to put it into words. Spock feels it, in the warmth of Jim's presence. “But you really do need to leave, now. It’ll ease my mind to know you are present to protect our crew. Make sure the Maiqurians know they are not to put anyone else through this. We need to renegotiate in light of this. You should contact Starfleet, get them to send us more diplomats. Ambassador Koslov isn’t equipped to deal with this. Vulcans, Betazoids, Andorians; I trust you to know who to send for, that could properly navigate the Maiqurians’ telepathy and empathy.”

“Jim, they have us locked in our rooms, we cannot---” Spock begins, but Jim interrupts with a shake of his head.

“I know, I’ve seen it in your mind. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry, but I wanted the information and suddenly it was  _ there.  _ I have no idea how this works, but I promise not to repeat anything I’ve seen, heard or felt from you. You have my word.”

He is sincere, but it is unnecessary. It is a relief to have Jim here, present and aware, determined to come back to him. Spock will concern himself with the implications of his own disregard of his usual need for complete mental privacy at a much later date. His Captain is his priority, now.

“You make it too goddamn easy,” Jim sighs, brining a hand up to cup the one Spock realizes is still on Jim's cheek. Waves of fondness, of affection and bemused resignation, wash over him. It is Jim, and Spock hears him, but this is not the time.

“I will break the meld, but I refuse to leave you all on your own. Not here,” Spock declares, unwilling to bend. Jim smirks, turns his head to press a dry, gentle kiss to Spock's palm. Spock shivers, looking away for a moment, before he gathers himself. “I will anchor a link in your mind, connecting you to mine. I will be with you as you conquer this, Jim. I will not let you fail.”

Gently, Spock tugs his hand away and reaches into his pocket. He finds a chess piece; the white Queen. Jim takes it from him with a bemused smile, and Spock can feel the link forming at his direction. Jim needs a representation of the link, something to hold on to, as it settles.

Jim cradles the piece in his hands, reverent and grateful, and it makes Spock flush with an unknown emotion to see it treated with such gentle care.

“Thank you Spock,” Jim says, looking up at him with his bright, blue eyes. “Leave, now. I won't be far behind.”

Unable to resist, Spock strokes two fingers down Jim's cheek, committing the sight of this thin, dirty youth to his memory. He will learn all of Jim, with time.

Reluctantly, he withdraws, leaving Jim behind cradling a piece of Spock in his hands.

 

oOo

 

“Holy shit,” McCoy exclaims from behind. “Well, you weren't kidding when you said he's a powerful telepath.”

“Who do you think I am? Kirk? I don't kid about things like that,” Nyota replies. Ambassador Koslov remains silent, together with the three security officers that accompanied them down to the planet. Ensign Prax, however, evidently does not feel a need to keep silent.

“Did he just render  _ five people  _ unconscious from behind a  _ wall?  _ I had no idea Vulcans could  _ project  _ their telepathy. Aren't they  _ touch _ -telepaths?” hir hisses, no doubt attempting to be quiet but failing.

Spock takes the phaser from the dazed-looking Maiqurian who opens the door, before delivering a quick nerve-pinch and rendering him unconscious. “Arm yourselves, we do not have a lot of time. If they discover us I will not be able to shield all of us, and you will be at the mercy of their telepathy and empathy. We need to get back to the ship immediately.”

“Did he just mentally  _ hijack  _ that Maiqurian? How does that even  _ work? _ ” Ensign Prax mutters to hirself, though no one pays hir any mind. Two of the Security Officers, Hendorff and Johnson, carry a still unconscious Jim between them.

“If we can get back, we can access the psi-inhibitors. They won't be able to reach us on the ship, but they'll come in handy just in case,” McCoy says as they follow Spock down the corridor. From delving into the minds of their prison guards, Spock knows where their communicators are kept. He knows Lieutenant Sulu has been in touch with the Maiqurians, that he's been told all is well and the negotiations are underway, disallowing any interruptions. He knows Lieutenant Sulu will not believe these excuses for too long, if he has not already doubted them, but the Maiqurians do not. The High Priestess is powerful, but not enough to telepathically or emphatically read any of the crew stuck in orbit. The distance is too far.

“We need to talk to the High Priestess. Spock said the Captain has been made to undertake a ritual, some kind of mental Journey, based solely on the Captain's willingness to play along. This could boil down to nothing but a severe cultural misunderstanding,” Nyota speculates quietly, huddled down with McCoy and the Ambassador as Spock clears the way. The halls are empty.

“Cultural misunderstanding?! They put him in a fucking  _ coma,  _ stuck to relive some kind of trauma! That is not healthy, not for a Human, and it's a bit more serious than to be chalked up as a little  _ misunderstanding!”  _ McCoy hisses, furious. Spock would agree, but he is dividing his attention between too many things; awareness of any threats, the safety his Captain entrusted to him of their crew, and the mental link anchoring Jim to his mind.

“Yes, but a large part of their communication seem to be telepathic and empathic. What they’re putting the Captain through is awful, but to them, it likely isn't. They have no frame of reference, Leonard. We’ve treated them like other telepathic and empathic species in the Federation, assuming they would adhere to the same ethnic codes put in place for psi-null species. We’ve both made mistakes, and we need to clear them up before either side acts in haste,” Nyota defends, passionate yet rational, a quality Spock continues to admire in her.

“The Lieutenant is correct,” Ambassador Koslov interjects, falling silent when Spock raises a hand. They need quiet, now. They're close to the room which hold their communicators, and their escape has yet to be noticed.

“Stay close,” Spock orders them, casting a look over his shoulder to check on Jim, held up between two of his officers. Still pale, still unmoving. Spock's jaw clenches. He feels Jim's struggle, his dispair and anger and exhaustion, bleeding through their link. He sends reassurance, encouragement, and hopes it is enough.

They reach the communicators without trouble. The Maiqurians have lax security, too confident and ignorant to expect them to escape.

“Commander Spock to  _ Enterprise.  _ Seven to beam up, effective immediately.”

 

oOo

 

“We’re sending an Ambassador from Betazed. Until they arrive, you must keep discussions open. We must avoid this turning into a conflict,” Admiral Komack says, frowning. “Am I understood?”

Spock regards him cooly, and raises a brow. “Yes, sir.”

With a nod, the Admiral signs off and Spock is left to stare at a blank screen. If Jim was here, he would have shared a look and grimaced at the order.  _ Because ignoring the issue always works out so well. Why can't we just confront them, sort this mess out? Bureaucracy, Spock, the bane of my existence. _

It is tempting, to simply hail the Maiqurian High Council and point out the fact that the  _ Enterprise  _ has several torpedos at their disposal and they are locked on several of their key buildings. The Captain is in sickbay, being monitored, and has shown no signs of waking. The Maiqurian High Priestess has agreed to open communications and is awaiting Spock's return from his briefing with Starfleet Command. Had it not been for the mental link, still flourishing, telling Spock of Jim's continued struggle and unwillingness to give up, the High Priestess would have found Spock much less agreeable than he will be now.

The Maiqurians has a lot to answer for, and Spock will not bend. Jim has been unconscious for eight hours. It will take approximately twenty-eight hours for the Betazoid Ambassador and their entourage to arrive.

That is plenty of time to ensure  _ discussions  _ are kept  _ open. _

 

oOo

 

Maiqurians are Humanoids in shape, for all that their psionic abilities are much more powerful. Jim had called them short and chubby, admiring the violet shade of their skin and the gem-like quality of their eyes.  _ If there ever was a species as strikingly beautiful as they are adorable, the Maiqurians are it,  _ he had said with a playful grin. An unnecessary observation, but Spock cannot help but resent it. Appearances can be deceitful. Did Jim's appreciation for the perceived beauty of the High Priestess lull him into a sense of false security? Was that why they were not careful enough?

He looks upon the female on the screen as he stands stiffly on the bridge, wondering at her act of casual cruelty upon a man who had sought only friendship with her people.

“You have imposed a ritual upon my Captain without first ensuring it is safe for a Human to endure. Humans are predominantly psi-null; they are not equipped to alone deal with any telepathic and empathic outside force. If he is harmed, if he does not wake, I will not hesitate to hold you accountable,” he declares, unmoved by the nervous fidgeting of the High Priestess’ aides, standing on either side of her.

“First Officer Spock of Vulcan,” she greets him, repeating the title Jim used to introduce him to her only hours before. “It is unfortunate that we have failed to understand each other. No harm was intended. I saw the burden he carries, still. It is our way to confront our pain, to process it, so it may be gone. It was intended as a gift. He would go on his Journey, and Sleep. If he Succumbs, his pain was greater than his own self. It would mean a downfall, regardless, and he is spared the indignity by Succumbing. He cannot Awaken on anyone's command but his own.”

Nyota is recording everything, taking notes on these custom they had known nothing of previous to today, as Spock moves to sit in the Captain's chair.

“Harm might not be what you intended, but it is what you have inflicted. Humans processes mental pain and trauma differently from you, even differently from me, as I am Vulcan. You have acted in error. We have sent for additional help in order to educate you on the Federation's stand on telepathic and empathic practises. We wish to prevent further misunderstandings, and you will have to learn how to communicate with species who do not share your psionic abilities. Are you and your people still open to renegotiate your membership in light of these recent events?”

The High Priestess slowly lowers her head to the side, her people's version of a nod. “We are. May your Captain Awaken, First Officer Spock of Vulcan. His spirit and mind are strong and good, and will guide him through.”

Spock does not bother to dignify that with a response. He bids her good-bye, with a promise to resume communications as needed. For now, he needs to do to his Captain.

 

oOo

 

_ Not again,  _ Spock thinks as he observes Jim, who lies still and pale on a biobed. His every vital sign is being monitored, including his brain waves, which are going highwire. The psionic readings a worryingly high, for a Human.

“Spock, as Jim's Doctor, I cannot allow you to meld again. His readings are through the roof; add any more and I fear it might break him,” McCoy warns him, PADD in hand and a frown on his face. Concerned, worried, but determined.

“I concur,” Spock agrees quietly, settling down in the chair next to Jim's bed. Taken by surprise, McCoy gapes at him.

“Uh, well then, uh,” he mutters, clearing his throat. Spock looks at him with a raised brow, waiting. “Damnit. Look, I’m gonna trust you here and leave you to...whatever you're doin’, pinin’ away at his bedside. I have some tests to run. Just don't forget you're still in command, Spock. You can't stay with him for too long.”

Spock inclines his head and doesn't bother to watch the Doctor leave. Instead, he reaches out for Jim’s limp hand, and gently squeezes it.

_ Safe, Jim. Be safe,  _ he sends through the link.  _ I am here. Feel me.  _ He squeezes his hand again, breathing through the rush of heat it sends through him.

_ Affection, hope,  _ comes through. The flavour of the emotions are unmistakably Jim.  _ Determination, anger.  _ He will succeed.

 

oOo

 

When Jim awakes, Ambassador Niavali Taam has arrived with her diplomatic aides and is in deep negotiation with the Maiqurians. Spock would normally be present during these proceedings as well, but the High Priestess had requested his absence. She finds her inability to read him distracting, especially next to the openness of the Betazoid Ambassador and her staff. Ambassador Taam informed him she also feels shame for what transferred between them, but is unable to express it properly as she cannot penetrate Spock's shields. Spock takes no offence, and leaves the situation in the Ambassador’s capable hands.

Therefore, he is free to greet his Captain upon awakening.

He feels it through their link, first. A powerful, elated sense of  _ triumph  _ echoes through his mind with the warmth and brilliance of a star; Jim's mental energy unmistakable. Spock makes his way quickly to the sickbay, and Jim is sitting up getting lectures and fussed over by Doctor McCoy by the time he arrives.

“Of all the shit that could’ve happened, a damn mental Odyssey through the nine circles of Hell was not on my list,” McCoy grumbles, making notes on his PADD as he checks readings.

“Clearly, you need to expand that list,” Jim grins, and Spock is struck by the sheer amount of  _ relief  _ he feels upon witnessing it.

The starved, dirty imagine of a fourteen-year old Jim Kirk is replaced by the reality of it: young still, but a man, who is healthy and strong and alive.

“Welcome back, Captain,” Spock greets him, letting his mouth twitch into a small, almost invisible smile, to show his delight. Jim doesn't startle, their link still present and active, giving him an awareness of Spock that is much deeper than before.

He smiles back, bright and beautiful and full of promise. “Spock! It's good to be back!”

_ Gratitude, fondness, determination.  _ His Captain wants to talk, and for once Spock is not apprehensive. Their link pulses with warmth in his mind as he sits down by Jim's side. McCoy has wandered off, muttering nonsense under his breath, and so Spock doesn't hesitate to reach for Jim's hand.

His skin has a healthy, rosy flush and his grip is strong.

“I know I promised not to mention anything, but maybe...you would not be opposed to have a discussion on...this?” Jim wonders quietly, squeezing Spock's hand and grinning cheekily at the way it causes his cheeks to flush green.

“I am not,” Spock says, clearing his throat and freeing his hand. He doesn't move it far, simply arranges his index and middle fingers together, and strokes it lightly along Jim's open palm.

Warm tingles spreads up Spock's arm from his fingertips, and he can feel his ears heat up, but it is inconsequential. Jim’s breath hitches, and he mimics the formation of Spock's fingers, and strokes him back.

“A Vulcan kiss,” Spock explains, but it is unnecessary. Jim knows.

 

oOo 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> My brain is mush after this and idk why. Title spring from a line in the story coz I suck at titling things. Sorry.


End file.
